Happiness
by EmNoneya
Summary: "I would die for you." "I would die for you." The same sentence, said at the same time, but from two completely different people. Beatrix Truitt moves from Knoxville, Tennessee to small town, Forks, Washington. Going with no optimism, she expects the worst from the town. Little does she know fate has a thing called Paul in store for her.
1. Chapter 1

"I would die for you." "I would die for you." The same sentence, said at the same time, but with two completely different voices. One unmistakeably mine, and another; unfamiliar and husky, belonging to a man. "I would do anything for you, Bea. You're my life. I can't live without you," the man said. I turned around from the wall I had been looking at and saw a gorgeous man, around the age of twenty-five. He had tan skin with piercing dark brown eyes, so dark that they were almost black. His hair was dark and cropped short, and he stood unusually tall, almost seven feet. I felt dwarfed beside him. I guessed that he was Native American.

I looked him in the eye and found myself unable to look away. I wanted to, but at the same time, I _really _didn't. His eyes held such intensity. "Then don't," I spoke. "Don't live without me. I don't care what everybody else says. We're supposed to be together!" "I'm too dangerous, Beatrix. I could hurt you. It's better this way, I promise. I only want what's best for you. If that means that I have to stay away from you, then that's what I'll do. This is the last time you'll see me." I felt my chest tighten as he said those last words. "No," I denied. "You can't. You... you just can't!" I cried. "I love you!" This revelation stunned him, but only for a few seconds. "I love you, too. Goodbye, Beatrix." His voice cracked and he turned his back, walking into the woods. I crumpled to the ground, sobbing. This man had a powerful effect on me. I then saw flashes of the next weeks to come. I cried in my room, tried calling him, I even went to where the man lived. I looked _dead._ Okay, a bit of an exaggeration. I looked miserable. Then, I woke up. There was one question going through my head; who was this man and why did I dream about him?

* * *

"I hate this," I grumbled, glaring out of the window. "Cheer up, BooBoo Bear," Mom said. "Think of it as a new start! Maybe you'll be popular at this school, like your sister." I sighed internally. Always "like my sister." I basically lived in Pheobe's shadow. "You should start dressing a bit more like Pheobe." "You should go to the game with Pheobe and her friends." "Hey, Beatrix, you look great- Oh, look at your sister! Never mind." Story. Of. My. Life. She's also the reason we're moving to a town with a population of like, ten, called Forks, Washington. It rains twenty-four seven.

We didn't even have to move! Pheobe came home from school one day and was like, "Oh, I read about this little cute town in Washington today! Let's move there, hahaha!" Two months later and viola! we're on an _extremely _long drive to a town named after freaking dinnerware. Of course, I haven't let my family know _exactly _how I feel about this move. They know I'm not very happy about this, but not to what extent. It's not even that I'm leaving a bunch of friends behind. Trust me, I'm not. It's that what friends I'd managed to aquire over the course of my sixteen years of life, I had to leave. I'm not a very social person, so I'm going to have a hard time getting new friends and Pheobe will be _no _help what so ever. Me making friends is like trying to find a corner in a circle- pretty much impossible. Don't I sound like a lovely person?

It's not that I don't want to make friends. I do, I really do. It's just that I'm extremely shy and I don't have very much in common with other humans my age. I'm interested in things like poetry, music, and the death of past presidents as opposed to which celebrity wore what to which award show and how much alcohol I can consume in one night at a house party hosted by the populars. To put it in simpler terms (Pheobe's terms), I'm a freak of nature. Well, to each his own.

After a while, we arrived in the utensil town, and surprisingly, it was not raining. It wasn't exactly _sunny,_ but there wasn't rain falling from the sky. The website I had visited didn't lie; it wasn't a very big town. There weren't very many stores and the grocery store wasn't even a chain one. It was a locally owned one that was half the size of Walmart; not even a "Super Walmart."

We reached our "new" house. It looked as if it were _at least _fifty years old, if not more. The white paint was chipped and peeling, two of the windows were broken, and garage door looked as if it needed some _serious _repairing, if not even replacing. My mother said this place had character. This is a dump. Yeah, Mom, it's "darling." My father told us where our rooms were, so I grabbed my backpack and headed in the general direction of my bedroom. I got the attic which was located in the back of the house. Even _that _window was broken. An upside was that the room was spacious and the window faced the woods. All of my furniture was pushed toward the middle so I could position everything to where I wanted it. There were around twelve boxes with _"Emily" _written in my usual scrawl.

I went to one of the four that contained my books and took them away from the pile of my other belongings. As the attic had been previously converted into a bedroom, there was a bookshelf that was bult into the wall on each side of my window. At the window, there was a window seat, perfect for reading. I gained some respect for the previous owners of this house upon these discoveries. I dragged the boxes in front of my window seat and started putting away my books in alphabetical order.

That took a little over an hour, but all of my books had been put away and I still had some space left to put some of my little knick-knacks. Just as I was about to rip open the next box, full of the clothes that I'm supposed to put in my closet, Mom called for me to come down down to the kitchen. "Beatrix! Come down here to meet some neighbors!" I dropped down the ladder, climbed down them, then went down the stairs and into the kitchen. In the door that leads to the side yard, a man with a mustache and a pale, brunette girl stood in the doorway.

"Beatrix," Mom said with an over zealous smile, "this is the police chief, Charlie Swan, and his daughter, Bella Swan. Bella w to the school you'll be going to. They kindly brought over this lasgana for us." "Um, hi," I said quietly. Then, Pheobe pranced into the room. "Oh! Are these some of our neighbors? Hello, I'm Pheobe Mora. It's nice to meet you." Mr. Swan and Bella were slightly taken aback by Pheobe's friendliness, but soon recovered. "Uh, hey," Bella mumbled. Pheobe was displeased by her not being as social as she, so she said the usual plesantries and went back to whatever she had been doing previously.

"Bella, Beatrix, why don't you two go into the living room while Charlie and I talk for a little while?" I nodded and lead Bella to the living room. When we sat down, I took a chance to get a good a look at her. She was quite pretty. She had long, chesnut hair, pale, porcelain skin, and brown eyes. I noticed that she was clutching _Wuthering Heights_, a novel I had yet to read but I had been pining after for quite some time. She noticed me eyeballing her book and she said, "Yeah, I know, I'm weird for walking around with an old book." I shook my head, causing some hair to fall in my face. "No, no. I'm actually kind of amazed that somebody around my age here appreciates great literature. I've yet to read _Wuthering Heights, _but I've been wanting to." We then launched into a lengthy conversation about some of the classics, such as _Pride and Prejudice,_ and poetry by some famous writers like Emily Dickinson and Edgar Alan Poe. We were so into our conversation that we didn't hear Mr. Swan tell Bella that it was time to leave. He finally had to yell, "Bella!" It frightened both Bella and I and we ended up bumping heads.

"Ow," I mumbled, holding my forehead. They were heading to the door, but Bella told her father she would be there in a minute and she turned to me. "Hey, a friend of mine invited me to a bonfire down on the beach in La Push tonight. You should come with me so I won't be lonely, Jake's bound to ditch me." "I don't know... I wouldn't want to intrude..." I looked over at the hallway behind her to see Pheobe and Mom gesturing for me to say yes. "I mean, um, yeah, sure. I'd love to go. I could try making some friends. See you there." She nodded and left. Pheobe squealed. "Oh my God, Bea! La Push is the Indian reservation! That means hot Native American guys! I've got to get you ready! Okay, so, your outfits going to be cute but casual, and it will show some skin but it won't be too slutty-" "Stop right there. No skin. I'm just wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and some Converse. I'm not changing clothing. Just what I'm wearing right now." She scowled. "You never let me have any fun. At least some makeup?" "No." I turned on my heel and walked up to my room to do some more organizing. Maybe Untensil Town won't be so bad.

* * *

"Beatrix, Bella's here!" "Okay! Be down in a minute!" I tied my left Converse and quickly went downstairs. I was a bit excited. I don't really go out and do stuff with people, so I was also extremely nervous. To the point of being on the verge of throwing up. "Love you, Mom. I'll check in, bye." I rushed out of the door, pulling on my jacket. Even though it was summer, it was still a bit chilly. Hazards of living in Washington. "Dude, cool truck." She grinned at me and we hopped in, then started heading in the direction of the reservation. The ride seemed relatively short, and wewere soon at a beach with a glowing coming from some cliffs above. Bella followed my gaze. "That's where it is. Let's go."

We walked up the cliff and approached a rather large group of people, mostly consisting of large, Native American men. Bella immediately left my side,leaving me alone. I sighed and sat down on a log, pulling out my favorite book, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ by J.K. Rowling. Just as I got to my favorite chapter, _The Battle of Hogwarts, _I felt a feminine hand poke my shoulder. "The food's ready. If you don't get any now, the boys will eat it all." I closed my book, but when I looked up, the lady was already gone. I went to go get a plate of chips and a soda (I'm a vegetarian), and when I got back, somebody was in my seat, right next to my book. "Excuse me," I said quietly. The man turned around and we made eye contact.

His eyes sucked me in. They were a brilliant dark brown. I tore my eyes from his and saw his face. He was the man from my dream. We stared at each other for a moment, then I spoke. "Um... C-Can you pl-please hand me m-my b-boo-book. It's r-right beside you," I said. "Why don't you sit down next to me?" he offered. Not trusting my voice, I nodded and sat down next to him. He saw my plate and his eyes narrowed. "You need to eat more than that," he told me. "I'm f-fine," I stuttered. "I'm a v-vegetarian, so I can't eat anything else h-here. I'll have an a-apple when I get h-home." I silently scolded myself for stuttering- a nervous habit of mine.

I scooted some of my chips around my purple paper plate, hyperaware of his eyes fixed on me. I ate a few chips and he seemed to relax a little. "I'm Paul," he informed me. "I'm Beatrix," I whispered, but even over the chatter of everybody else, he seemed to hear me. "Beatrix," he repeated softly. "How old are you, Beatrix?" "S-Sixteen." "Just a baby..." he muttered to himself. "I'm almost nineteen," he told me. Wow. I thought that he would be at least twenty-five! "Why are you all alone? You don't look like you belong to the rez." "I c-came here with B-Bella Sw-Swan," his nostrils flared when I said 'Bella,' "but she left me alone for some guy over th-there." I pointed to where Bella and some muscular guy were talking. "I haven't seen you around. You new here?" He questioned me further.

I nodded. "My family and I moved here today. Bella's my neighbor and she invited me here when she and her dad welcomed my family here. We get on really well. We both have a keen interest in literature and appreciate the classics," I rambled on. "She's going to lend me _Wuthering Heights,_ a novel I've yet to get my hands on. You couldn't find them very often back in Tennessee and if-" I stopped myself when I noticed that I was babbling. My face turned pink and I smiled nervously then looked down. He chuckled. "You're so cute!" he exclaimed, causing everybody to look over at us. I felt my face turn an even darker shade of pink, if possible.

A guy that looked similar to Paul said, "Oh, nuh-uh! Paul! He's done it!" This made me furrow my eyebrows. What had he done? I turned to Paul. "What did you do?" I asked. He surprised me by putting his arm around me and pulling me into his chest, but his warm temperature surprised me even more. He was burning up! "Don't worry about it, Bea. Jared's just being annoying," he murmured. "Shut up, Jared, and go run back to your little Kimmy!" After that, we weren't bothered again and we were able to learn a lot about one another. A man in a wheelchair named Billy told some of the Quileute legends, which were fascinating. My favorite was the one about the Third Wife who sacrificed herself to save her husband. I can relate to that because I would definitely do _anything _for those I love, even if it meant dying. There were more stories, but I fell asleep straight after the story of the Third Wife.

Later, I woke up to a warm hand poking my cheek. "Bea, wake up," a masculine voice said gently. "I need to get you home, it's close to midnight." I opened my eyes and rubbed them. I looked around to gather my surroundings, then remebered that I was at the bonfire. "Where's Bella?" I croaked. "Jake and her went to her house an hour or two ago. I'm going to take you home." I nodded and grabbed my book. Suddenly, I remembered something. "Crud! I was supposed to check in with my mom! I'll just text and told I fell asleep. Yeah, she'll understand. Ugh, I'm such a bad daughter..." I trailed off. I texted Mom saying, "Sorry I haven't checked in, fell asleep. On my way home." I looked up to see Paul waiting for me to advance towards his truck. This night had turned out great!


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning, and I was elated. My mother ahdn't even cared that I hadn't called! She was more interested in the man bringing me home. I refused to tell she and Pheobe anything, claiming that I was too tired to talk about it. Honestly, I just didn't want Pheobe to become interested in him. She had been staring at him like he was a piece of meat.

Paul. Where do I begin with him? He's dark, mysterious, alluring. The type of men you read about in romance novels. He has a certain aura about him that tells you he is most likely bad for you, but it pulls you in. His eyes, they held so much more in them than what his face reveals. In them, there is pain, love, and hate. A lot of hate. He had been through a lot, and I was determined to know what. I also craved to know why he held so much hate. What, or who, had caused him to be so full of loathing?

He made me quite nervous. There was a power over me that he held, which frightened me. He made my heart race, stomach somersault, and palms sweat. I had no idea what this- this, for lack of better word, _sorcery _was. I was on edge the entire time, ready to do whatever he needed me to. How was I to cope with this? I had just met him less than twenty-four hours ago and I was aching to see him, to be near him. It was terrifying!

"Beatrix," Mother said through the phone, "somebody is coming up to move your furniture. He's from the Quileute reservation, and he's quite nice. Just tell him where you want everything. I must go. Goodbye." Thanks, Mom, love you, too. She in Port Angeles, working out a deal for a stroefront she wanted to buy for her cake and confections buisness, while my dad was at drill. He was in the Army. I looked around at my belongings and placed everything in their spots in my head. I wasn't quite finished when I heard the doorbell, but I went to answer it. Normally, Pheobe would get it, but she was out doing God knows what with some people she met yesterday. I opened the old wooden door to find a familiar, large, muscular frame. Paul Lahote.

My eyes widened and I froze. I was _not _expecting this. "Um, h-hi," I said. Great, he probably thinks I'm so intelligent. Note the sarcasm there. "Hey, Angel. I'm here to move your furniture." I stared at himfor a second and studiedhis face. He has a nice face, he really does. You could tell he hadn't shaved in several days, though. I quite liked it. There was a bit of stubble, but he wasn't hairy. I'm not the biggest fan of too much facial hair. He waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention. "All right there, Bea? You zoned out a bit." "I'm good, yeah. I'll, um... show you to my room. It's a converted attic, so, yeah. Here we go, just climb up here. I'll lead the way."


	3. Chapter 3

I stood awkwardly in the corner of my bedroom. I self-consciously wrapped my arms around my stomach as I could feel his eyes boring into me. "Where do you want your dresser?" I pointed to the far corner and avoided eye contact. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long period of time, all of my furniture was put into place. Paul sauntered over to my bed and sat down. "So, Angel, what do you do for fun?" I blinked rapidly. Was this attractive being seriously on my room, on my bed, trying to converse with me? "I like to read... I write some stuff; mostly freelance. I spend a lot of time on the computer." I sounded like a social reject. Which I am, but he doesn't need to know that. He stared at me intently. "I've been meaning to read more. Is there a certain book you'd recommend for me?" I instantly perked up and jumped to my feet. I turned to him. "Wait there," I instructed. From my bookshelf I picked an assortment of books, making sure that they weren't too girly.

I, of course, put one of my personal favorites, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, into the stack. I came back to my bed with a pile of books. "Wow," he mumbled. I smiled proudly. "This didn't even make a dent in my collection." He ended up, per my recommendation, picking out Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. "You said it's one of your favorites," he stated, referring to the book at his side. "What's your actual favorite?" I looked up at him and he was considerably closer. His scent was overwhelming. It was a bit musky, like the woods, mixed with something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. "H-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," I answered. "That's the one you were reading last night." I nodded. We spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence. Paul broke it. "You're so beautiful," he breathed. I had to keep myself from snorting. I was in SpongeBob pajamas and my hair was a mess. "Thanks." "You don't think so." It wasn't a question, it was a declaration. Like he knew it was a fact.

"Why don't you think so? You're the most gorgeous person I've ever met." If he thought I was gorgeous, Pheobe would knock him dead. He did something that surprised me. He sat me in his lap, facing him. He tilted my chin up and we made eye contact. There were the same emotions as the other night, but a little less hatred. This made me happy. "Bea, you obviously don't see what I see. When I look at you, I see a beautiful seventeen year old girl inside and out. They say that your eyes are the window to your soul. I'm looking into your eyes right now and I can tell about your past. You've been hurt, you've sacrificed a lot. You're used to being the second choice. This- it needs to stop. You're too brilliant of a person to not be the first choice." Then, he kissed me. Bam! My first kiss.

It was nice. He didn't apply very much pressure and he wasn't slobbering all over my face like they do in the movies. He was slow at first, as if he was testing the waters. I starting kissing back and he started going a little faster and applying a little more pressure. It was like the girls and romance novels described being kissed by the male love interest. There were fireworks shooting off behind my eyelids and my lips tingled. The spots on my waist where his hands were holding me were on fire. He wrapped his arms around my entire body. I put one hand on each shoulder to keep better balance. I noticed how warm his body was. It almost seemed unnatural. My small frame was almost dwarfed by his large, hard, masculine frame. I felt as if my entire body was on fire; it was a good fire. His tongue darted out of his mouth and he lightly licked my bottom lip. I read in a novel once that if that happens, if you want, you open your mouth to give him access to it. That is exactly what I did.

Having his tongue in my mouth was strange. I decided that I liked it. Soon though, I needed air. I pulled away and Paul moved on to scattering kisses along my exposed neck. I could feel the stubble on his face scratching against my neck. He made his way down to my collarbone and he sucked on the place where your collarbone and neck meet and that elicited a moan from me. He smirked against me then landed one last kiss just below my ear before pulling away. I was still panting but his breathing was perfect. I looked up and locked eyes with him; dark brown on light blue. "That was my first kiss," I informed him. "I'm honored to be your first kiss," he said in a very bad British accent. "Well, it was one heck of kiss," I giggled. Oh my goodness, I giggled. Ew.

**_Paul's POV_**

My heart swelled with joy when she told me I was her first kiss, but I was kicking myself for not going slower. Her first kiss should have short and sweet, not heated and lust fueled. Her giggle, oh my God, her giggle! I had never heard such a wonderful thing in my life. As soon as I imprinted on Beatrix, I knew that I would quit sleeping around and that my days of partying were gone. That kiss confirmed it, though. I knew that I would never look at another woman the same way again. It was Beatrix; just Beatrix.

She had no idea how amazing she was, which made her even better. She was gorgeous. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and she was in SpongeBob pajamas, and she was absolute perfection. Before I imprinted, I was convinced that I would hate it; I thought it was evil. I thought that it would take my free will. It's just the opposite of evil, though. It's shown me that there are good people in this world left aside from the pack and my mother. She's so shy and genuine. I haven't known her long and I don't know very much about her, but I do know one thing: I will do anything for this girl.

I also can't wait for her to meet my mother. Abit premature, I know. It's not like I'm going to whisk her off to the rez and set her in a dining chair next to Mom. I need to ease her into imprint life first. One part of that is trying to control my anger. Even before I started phasing, I had a quick temper. Now, I'm quite dangerous when I'm angry. Before, I wasn't too concerned about it; why should I have been? I didn't have an imprint to protect. Now it was a little bit frightening. What if I accidently harmed her like Sam did to Emily?


End file.
